Requiem For A Carnival
by Will T.G
Summary: After many years, will the Carnival return? Set in the Tenchi Universe timeline.


Chapter 1: _Tomobiki_

Masaki Tenchi sighed. He knew that this would be difficult, he just did not know how difficult this would be. "Your grandfather was a great priest," the old woman, who was clearly in her mid to late seventies, said trying to console him.

"Thank you ma'am, "Tenchi said, bowing courteously.

"When I was a young woman I fancied him a bit," she confessed, "but he was devoted to your grandmother, the gods rest her. At least he has joined her now after so many years..." her voice trailed off, hinting at the wave of sorrow which she was trying to stymie.

Since Masaki Katsuhito, as he was known to the people in Kurashiki, had passed away several days earlier, Tenchi and his father Nobuyuki had been inundated with well wishers and sympathizes. Even now, just going to the grocer was proving to be a challenge that he was not expecting. "My father and I appreciate your condolences," he said sincerely, trying to find a gracious way to extricate himself from the conversation.

"How is he holding up dearie?" the lady asked, continuing the conversation much to his disappointment.

"As well as any of us," Tenchi said. Truth be told, the death of his grandfather had affected his father deeply. Nobuyuki had taken the blow by spending the day at the grave of his wife, Achika. "We're all alone," he had lamented to Tenchi over sake that night. They had drank Katsuhito's favorite label, and when the last bottle was finished, they smashed their saucers against the hearth. Neither one of them knew why they did such a thing, but it felt appropriate at the time.

"Send him my love as well," she said, hugging Tenchi by the neck. "Will I see you at the funeral?"

Tenchi choked down his emotion. "Yes ma'am," he said, his voice wavering a little. "I'm performing the ceremony."

The lady smiled and wiped her eyes. "I know your grandfather will be watching with pride," she added in benediction.

"Thank you," Tenchi said, offering another small bow. After another hug of his neck, she continued down the side walk, the staccato thump of her cane punctuating each step. _Kami help me,_ Tenchi thought as he entered the market. _It's going to be one of those days..._ he added inwardly as a number of people stopped their shopping and turned their attention towards the young priest.

* * *

"That's the last one," Tenchi said to no one in particular as he hefted the last of the grocery sacks onto the kitchen counter. The trip to the market had taken three times longer than usual due to the number of well wishers he had received. It didn't surprise Tenchi though. He knew that his grandfather was well respected in the community, even if the local populace did not know the truth about his origins. The prodigal prince Yosho had lived in the sleepy countryside of Okayama Prefecture for so long that he might has well have been born. here instead of on the distant world of Jurai.

_Jurai...that's something I haven't thought of for a while..._Tenchi reflected as he sorted what needed to be refrigerated from what did not. Truth be told, it had been a very long time since Tenchi had thought of the exploits of his youth. _Was it really nearly twenty years ago? _he asked himself. It was during his sixteenth summer that what he jokingly called the 'Carnival' had begun. His life had been a whirlwind during that time. Overnight his quiet existence was turned upside down. First to join the Carnival had been Ryoko, and then Mihoshi as she tried to capture Ryoko. Then the princesses Ayeka and Sasami had arrived. Little Washu and Kiyone had rounded out his ad-hoc family. Tenchi felt a slight pang of regret begin to well up in his chest. After all these years, he truly did miss everyone, even with all the trouble they had seemingly brought into his life at the time.

Then as suddenly as the Carnival had begun, it ground to a halt. Kiyone and Mihoshi were the first to depart, being reassigned to other parts of the galaxy to patrol. The last Tenchi had heard Kiyone was an instructor at the GXP Academy, and Mihoshi was still patrolling a beat somewhere in the cosmos. Washu had grown bored of this little backwater mud ball and returned to her studies, eventually founding a research and design company. Most technologies in the galaxy now used something that Eagle Corp had created. Ayeka and Sasami eventually had to return to Jurai. Roman holidays for a princess cannot last forever. The day that they had left had been heart rending. Sasami wept, her grief coming in great heaves as she finally had to turn and run to the awaiting spacecraft. Ayeka had tried to keep the veneer of regal serenity that had been cultivated in her since childhood, but she too could not hide her sorrows. She had reached for Tenchi, but just shook her head and walked away to her craft, tears streaking her face. That just left Ryoko.

_Ryoko..._

The slight pang of regret that Tenchi felt was becoming full blown heart ache. Ryoko had stayed longer than any of the others. She alone would not give up on Tenchi's unrequited affections, but she too had her limits. Tenchi became sullen when everyone had left, save her, and he retreated further into his studies. Then one day when Tenchi had returned home from his studies at the major shrine in Kurashiki he found Ryoko and Ryo-Ohki were gone; only a simple note was left for him.

"I love you..." was all that it said.

Tenchi had sat in the empty house for hours just holding the note, not believing that she was gone and his carnival had truly ended. That night was the first time that he had ever been falling down drunk in his life. Try as he might, he could not drown his sorrows. When his grandfather found him the next day, he was passed out on living room sofa surrounded by enough beer and sake bottles to have given even Ryoko a hangover. Instead of chastising his grandson on the virtues of temperance and moderation, Katsuhito spent the day watching over Tenchi. He knew that there would be a time and place for such lessons, but today was not that day...

Tenchi shook his head. From being the lonely teenager to being the center of attention to being a lonely man now..._Things have come full circle _he thought.

"How are you holding up son?" Nobuyuki asked as he closed the front door, his dry-cleaned suit hanging over his shoulder in a clear plastic sleeve. He paused for a moment, kicking off his loafers and slipping on a pair of open healed slippers.

"Like you have to ask," Tenchi answered, maybe a little more forlornly than he intended.

"I know son," Nobuyuki said, patting his suddenly moist eyes with a handkerchief. It was his turn to be the strong one, just as Katsuhito had been for him. "We better get ready. The priests from Kurashiki will be here in an hour with the casket and people will begin arriving for wake at 6pm."

The finality of the subject punched Tenchi in the gut like a blow from a heavy weight prize fighter. As a great wave of angst washed over him, he fell to his knees.

"I'm here for you," Nobuyuki said, consoling his distraught son. He knew that the relationship between his late father-in-law and his son was more than grandfather and grandson, or even shinshoku and successor. Nobuyuki knew that Tenchi viewed his grandfather in a fatherly way, and he could not blame him, even if it pained him so. He had spent so much time in Kurashiki or Tokyo or Hiroshima with his work that he practically missed large chunks of his sons life.

"I know dad," Tenchi sobbed.

"Come on," Nobuyuki urged, helping Tenchi to his feet. "Let's get ready." Tenchi nodded and leaned on his fathers shoulder all the way up the stairs.

* * *

"Over here," Nobuyuki instructed as a quartet of priests lifted the simple wooden coffin bearing the mortal remains of Katsuhito into the living room of the house. Most of the furniture had been pushed to the walls or slid into other rooms to make room for the small wooden altar that was now the focal point of the room.

"Very good," one of the priests said, noting the proper north/south orientation of the altar. "I'd expect nothing less from Katsuhito-San's protégée."

"Thank you," Tenchi said as he descended the stairs, adjusting the Windsor knot of his tie. He had struggled for a moment over whether to wear a traditional black kimono or a black suit, but had opted for the suit. It was a finely tailored worsted wool garment that his grandfather had made for him a few birthdays ago, so he chose it instead. The jet black suit had a slight shadow stripe woven into the soft fabric and a matching waistcoat. A crisp white cuff link shirt finished his attire.

Tenchi noted that that the family _kamidana _had been properly sealed with white paper. _"We do this when a family member dies to keep impure spirits from entering the shrine_,_" _he remembered his grandfather teaching him at a young age.

Tenchi watched as the priest slid the lid off the casket and carefully pulled back the silk sheet that had been covering his grandfathers face. All the lines of a lifetime were etched into Katsuhito's face, much how flowing water etches the mountains over time. Tenchi smiled. He knew that that face had seen suns rise on worlds that few knew existed on this earth and had lived a life worth living. The lead priest then adjusted the white kimono Katsuhito was dressed in, making sure that it was crossed right over left. He then bowed to Tenchi.

Tenchi returned the bow and approached Katsuhito's coffin, laying the back of his hand against his grandfathers face one last time. His prayers said, he reached into his pocket and pulled out six coins and placed them in the coffin.

"For the River of Three Crossings," the priest said. Tenchi nodded. "I have no doubt that Katsuhio-San will have no trouble crossing the Sanzu. The dragons will remain hungry tonight."

Tenchi nodded in appreciation of the older priests words. He knew the legend well, but he was sure that the old priest did not see the coins that he placed in the coffin. Five were various denominations of yen, but the sixth was from Jurai. Tenchi had saved some coins and other mementos from when he had slain Kagato. Now he was sending a small piece of his grandfathers home world with him. "They will be very hungry," Tenchi confirmed.

"I just wish that funeral was to be held on a less auspicious day, but Katsuhito-San's wishes must be honored," the priest noted as he handed Tenchi a small white envelope tied with a piece of black ribbon. "A_koden_ from all of us in Kurashiki," he offered.

"Our thanks'" Tenchi returned. "I'll place it with the others." The priests smiled warmly as Tenchi laid the envelope on a low table near the coffin. A picture of Katsuhito in his _kariginu and eboshi_ sat in the epicenter of flowers and candles. A small incense holder held three sticks in front of the picture.

"You will make a fine _kannushi_, and make your grandfather proud," the old priest said earnestly. "We will return in the morning for the coffin and return with the urn before the funeral."

"Thank you," Tenchi said, trying to choke his emotions. Each of the remaining priests bowed to him and offered their condolences and support as they passed by Tenchi.

Nobuyuki placed a hand on his sons shoulder as he looked down on the face of Katsuhito. "It would've been nice if the others could be here," he said, placing a slight emphasis on the word 'others'.

"It would have been," Tenchi sighed, but he knew those days were long passed by. "Maybe I'll see one of them in the future."

"I've never thought that _Tomobiki _was an ill omen," Nobuyuki said. Tenchi stared at his father for a moment. It was not like him to delve into the philosophical. "I know the priests think that it will pull friends towards the deceased, but I've thought it did more to pull family and friends together. What?" Noboyuki said with a small laugh as Tenchi continued to stare at him, mouth slightly agape."I live around your grandfather all these years and you think I wouldn't pick up on a few things?"

Tenchi allowed himself to smile for the first time in days. "I never thought of it that way," he said.

"Tomorrow will be a good day," Nobuyuki said, sounding more like Katsuhito than Nobuyuki. Tenchi nodded as the front door slid open and the first of the well wishers and mourners arrived. A young couple that Tenchi thought he remembered from a wedding a few summers ago at the shrine signed the registry book and placed a _koden_ envelope on the table by the casket.

"Our sympathies," they said, offering Tenchi and Nobuyuki a respectful bow. "We always enjoyed listening to your grandfather teach," the man said.

"He was very kind to us," his wife added. This scene replayed itself many times into the evening. Tenchi knew that his grandfather had touched many lives, but how many surprised even him. Being married by Katsuhito seemed to be a tradition for some families. More than one set of parents and their grown children came to pay their respects; Tenchi's grandfather having performed the ceremony for each member of the family. In one instance it stretched from the grandparents, now octogenarians, to their twenty-something's grandchildren. Tenchi's grandfather had wed them all.

But the thing that Touched Tenchi most were the stories from people who just came to the shrine to talk to his grandfather. Many were not the the religious type, but they had found a sense of inner peace when conversing with the aged priest. Several told of how Katsuhito had talked them out of taking their owns lives, and they had found contentment afterwards. Some had even gone into the priesthood so that they could repay the gods kindness shown to them by Katsuhito by helping others. As the stories continued, Tenchi was very certain that the dragons in the Sanzu would be hungry tonight.

By the time the last mourners had left it was well approaching midnight. "I'll stay up tonight," Nobuyuki said as he collected the guest book from the front foyer. It delighted him that he had to get a note pad from the kitchen to continue the list of people who came into his home this night. He knew that his wife and father-in-law were watching and well pleased.

"Uh-huh," Tenchi said, exhausted. The height of the past days was pressing down him, and selfishly, he was glad that his father had offered to keep the vigil.

"You'll do fine tomorrow," Nobuyuki said. "I know you will."

"I hope so," Tenchi said, trying to draw from his fathers confidence, along with the confidence of those who had wished him well tonight. He just couldn't let them down.

Minutes later his suit was hung back in his closet and Tenchi was laying back in his bed. Try as he might to sleep, all he could do was stare at the ceiling. Memories of days long since past by flooded into his mind. Tenchi sighed to the point of deflation as he pushed as much air as he could from his lungs. First he thought of the day that the carnival had begun. He remembered being chased by the battle suit clad Mihoshi till he and Ryoko reached the top of the shrine steps. There his grandfather stepped from the shrine office, bokken drawn. Then like a samurai from an action anime he leapt towards the battle suit and immobilized it with one blow.

When he had asked his grandfather later how a wooden sword could rend a metal battle droid suit, the old priest just laughed. "Mind over matter," he had mused as he sipped his tea. Later Tenchi would learn that Katsuhito had channeled a morsel of his Jurai power into the blade.

When sleep claimed Tenchi, it was anything but peaceful. All night he dreamed of days gone by. Various scenes from his past played a cross his mind. Most were a mishmash of various memories, some true, some half remembered , but one dream was vivid...

Tenchi stretched out on the roof near the balcony on the upper level of the house. The stars were particularly bright tonight, and the pink and mauve swath of the Milky Way stretched across the inky blue-blacks of the firmament.

"I've been there," Ryoko said as she laid down next to Tenchi. A moment of silence passed between them.

"There's an old legend," Tenchi began, "about the Heavenly River separating two lovers..."

"Tell it to me," Ryoko asked. She loved to hear Tenchi tell myths and legends.

"The _Amanogawa River_, or heavenly river," Tenchi began, pointing towards the Milky Way, "separated the heavens. Everyday princess Orihime, the daughter of the Sky King, would sit and weave beautiful cloth on the banks of the river. The Sky King loved the cloth very, very much, so Orihime worked very hard every day to give her father the most beautiful clothes. Even though the Sky King loved the clothes, he worried about his daughter."

"How so?" Ryoko asked.

"He worried that because she worked so hard to make him such beautiful clothes everyday, that she would never have the time to find someone and fall in love."

"I see."

"So one day the Sky King arranged for her to meet Hikoboshi, who lived and worked on the other side of the Amanogawa as a cow herder. The two fell in love and were soon married. However, because they spent so much time with each other, Orihime stopped weaving clothes for her father and Hikoboshi stopped tending his herds, allowing his cows to wander all over heaven."

"I bet that made a mess of everything," Ryoko laughed.

"It sure did," Tenchi continued. "The Sky King became angry and separated the two lovers across the Amanogawa and forbade them to ever see one another again."

Ryoko grunted. "The Sky King sounds like a selfish bastard," she cursed.

Tenchi laughed softly. "But he was not heartless. He was so moved by his daughters tears that he agreed to let them meet once a year, on the seventh day of the seventh month, if she finished her weaving. When the seventh day of the seventh month arrived for the first time, Orihime tried to see Hikoboshi, but there was no bridge for her to cross the river."

"That is so sad..." Ryoko wasn't sure how much she liked this particular legend. She rolled over and placed her head on Tenchi's shoulder. "I don't like sad endings..."

"But is has a happier ending," Tenchi said, snaking his arm around her. "Orihime was heart broken. She cried so much that a flock of magpies came to her and took pity. 'We will make you a bridge with our wings,' they promised. The next year on the seventh day of the seventh month, the magpies kept their word, and made a bridge of their wings so that Orihime could see her lover Hikoboshi. That's why we pray for August 7 on the modern calendar to be a sunny day."

"Oh?"

"If it rains, the magpies can't fly to Orihime and she must wait another year to see Hikoboshi," Tenchi finished.

Ryoko made a mental note to pray for August 7 to be sunny. "I'll take you to see them," she promised.

"Huh?" Tenchi asked.

"Orihime," she said pointing to one especially bright star to the east of the Milky Way, "and Hikoboshi," she added, pointing to an equally bright counterpart on the west bank of the heavenly river. "I'll take you there. I promise."

At that point of the dream, Tenchi awoke with a start. His mouth was dry and his head hurt. In the fog of his mind, he was not entirely sure that dream was a memory or just a dream. He lay back in his bed, but he could not shake a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Try as he might, sleep would not return to him. Needing some air, he opened the sliding door and walked out on the balcony. The early morning breeze of late spring rustled the leaves in the trees around the lake and cooled his skin, and the first scents of the new day carried to him like a soft perfume. Looking east towards the first bands of reddening sky, he saw the same two stars from his dream. Both were shining brightly.

"May the seventh day of the seventh month be be sunny," he prayed to the kami. Tenchi communed with nature till the morning sun crested the hills surrounding the family shrine.

* * *

Tenchi opened the door and welcomed the four priests inside. They had arrived at dawn just as they had promised the night before. "All was well?" the elder priest asked.

"It was," Tenchi replied. "Father has gone to take a nap before the ceremony," he continued as the priests gently slid the wooden lid back onto Katsuhito's casket. His heart ached as the grooves in the top interlocked with the dovetail joints on the sides. _That's the last time I will see him in this life..._he realized as the last groove clicked in place.

"Did Katsihito-San have any other family?" the priest asked of Tenchi.

Tenchi furrowed his brow. The truth was stranger than fiction in this regard. "None that could make it in time for the ceremony," he said. _Not exactly a lie, _he thought.

"Then you may have the honors," the priest said, drawing four iron nails from his robes. Tenchi solemnly accepted the nails and a large smooth river rock that another priest proffered. His eyes glistening, he drove each of the nails home in the four corners of the casket with the rock while the quartet of priests chanted a sutra. Each thud of stone on iron sent a pang through Tenchi that shook his to the very core of his being. He was trembling so badly by the third nail that a junior priest stepped forward to finish the task if he needed him. Tenchi shook his head, and the priest quietly stepped back. Steeling his nerves, some how, he found the resolve to complete the task, and stood as silent tears streaked his face while the priests finished their chant.

"We will be back before 11," the priest said, placing a comforting hand on Tenchi's shoulder.. "We'll bring the urn to the shrine yard."

"Everyone will be gathered at the base of the stairs waiting on you," Tenchi managed to croak. With that the quartet of priests lifted Katsuhito's casket and took him from the Masaki home for the final time. Once he had slid the front door shut, Tenchi stumbled to the sofa and collapsed onto its cushions, letting his sorrow overtake him.

* * *

Nobuyuki found Tenchi in the shrine yard. He had managed a few hours of fitful sleep after his vigil by his father-in-laws side. During the night he had meditated, and thought back on the life he had spent with his dear Achika, and family. Katsuhito had been a fount of strength and wisdom that he had drawn on, and now he wondered how he would manage. When Achika had died so young, Nobuyuki felt his world collapse in on him. Katsuhito had been the pillar that supported the family. When work dragged him away from Tenchi, Katsuhito had been the surrogate father. When their lives had been turned upside down by six alien women, he had guided the family through their adventures. Now he was gone.

Tenchi was sitting in seiza before the funerary altar that had been set up in front of the shrine proper. Dressed in his ceremonial black _kariginu robe and _eboshi hat, he was drawing ornate kanji with a calligraphy brush on a small whitewashed wooden table. "Father's _kaimyo_?"

Tenchi nodded as he finished the last brush strokes. "I chose a name meaning noble in spirit," he said as he placed the tablet next to a picture of his grandfather on the altar. A small burner of incense was already smoldering in front of the same picture of Katsuhito that had been present during the wake.

"Very fitting," Nobuyuki said, allowing himself a small stretch. Sitting up all night had left his back a little stiffer than it usually was. "It's about time," he said, checking his watch.

Tenchi nodded as the first sounds of a chanted mono-aural sutra began to carry over the steps leading to the shrine. Soon the four priests who had carried Katsuhito's casket from the house crested the plane of the shrine yard, carrying a blue and white ceramic urn between them on a palanquin. A throng of people, many chanting the sutra along with the priests and clutching prayer beads in their steepled hands followed behind. Tenchi readied himself with a quick prayer asking for his ancestors to guide him as the yard filled and the funeral began.

* * *

Tenchi wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. The cool of the mid morning had turned to a warmth that belied the oncoming of summer. The funeral had been finished by noon, per his grandfather's wishes. By mid afternoon the last of the mourners had departed leaving Tenchi and his father alone.

"I'm calling it a day," Nobuyuki announced without preamble as the last person descended the shrine stairs. "I'll leave the sake out for you," he added as he tossed his suit coat over his shoulder and began to head towards the house. Tenchi was struck by old his father suddenly looked. He had never thought of his father as an old man before, but Nobuyuki appeared to have aged a decade in the last few days in Tenchi's eyes. Sighing, he inwardly wondered how long it would be before he had to repeat these rites. After a change of clothes from his vestments to a more practical denim jeans and white button down, he began to police the shrine, finding some solace in the chores he had performed since childhood.

Finally the time had arrived to inter the urn in the family grave. Tenchi sat the urn next to the family tombstone that bore the names of his grandfather and grandmother. He had already scrubbed the red ink signifying life from the engraved characters of his grandfathers name. The dark kanji etched granite name now matched his grandmothers.

Carefully, with a hammer and small chisel he broke the line of mortar that sealed the backside of the cenotaph and pried the stone slab free. After knocking off the old mortar with his trowel, he sat the stone aside and gently, reverently placed the blue and white urn on the shelf above the one that the lavender and white urn of his grandmother sat. After a quick prayer, Tenchi turned to the small cup of cement mortar he had mixed earlier and troweled some into the ledges around the cenotaphs hollow. Satisfied that enough had been applied, he hefted the backing slab back into place. Once it was firmly in place, Tenchi applied mortar to fill the gaps, pressing it smooth with the flat of the trowels blade. Having set for a few minutes, Tenchi scraped the excess mortar from the join line with the blades edge. Finally, he wrung a rag that was in the water bucket he brought, and wiped the surface of the cenotaph clean. By morning when the mortar had fully set, no one would ever know that the cenotaph had been recently opened, save for the small altar bearing offerings sitting in front of it.

Tenchi gathered his tools and retired to the house. He hoped that his father had left the sake out, he was going to need some tonight. After warming a carafe of sake, Tenchi retired to the deck to enjoy the fading evening light Sitting back in a rattan chair, saucer of sake in hand, Tenchi looked over the lake and let his mind wander...

* * *

Life slowly returned to normalcy around the Masaki Shrine in the days and weeks following Katsuhito's funeral. Tenchi held a memorial service at the shrine for Katsuhito everyday for seven days after the funeral as tradition dictated, but inwardly he was grateful when the time of mourning was over. _At least I won't have to do that again till Obon,_ he thought has he stowed the last of the funerary materials in the shrine office's storage closet. While he understood the need for the rituals and observances, they had drained him. Now he was afforded a sense of closure, allowing him to make his peace without the public spectacle of memorials and rites. In private, Tenchi had begun to keep a journal of his memories of his grandfather, so that they would never fade into the fog of time.

As the light breezes and mild days of spring gave way to the heat of summer, Tenchi quietly settled into his routine of shrine keeper. Daily he kept the yard and steps, and performed purification rituals every so often as dictated. As the middle of June approached, he had already performed his first two solo weddings, drawing upon the lifetime of tutelage he had spent with Kastuhito...

_"That was splendid," the father of the bride had congratulated him, as he handed an envelope with his honorarium in it. "Absolutely splendid."_

_"I am honored," Tenchi said, taking the proffered envelope._

_"I do believe you did a better job than your grandfather did when he married us," the mother of the bride added, giving him a small hug and kiss on his cheek. "That was a most wonderful gift you have given us."_

It was the little things like that Tenchi marveled over as he settled into his role as kannushi. To him, he was just doing his duties. It was what everyone else drew from them that amazed him.

"Tanabata will be here soon," Tenchi said aloud to no one in particular. He was still getting used to the idea that it was just him at the shrine and Katsuhito would not be making a reply about how many preparations needed to be made for the upcoming festival.

"I know that story," said a lady as she crested the steps to the shrine yard.

"Welcome to Masaki Shrine," Tenchi said, offering his guest a short bow. "Feel free to explore the grounds."

"Is the old shrine keeper here?" she asked, looking from side to side to acquaint her self with the surroundings. Tenchi studied the newcomer for a second. She was dressed in a traditional dark navy kimono with a gold obi. Her dark hair was neatly braided down her back save for a few wisps that escaped in front of her ears. A more modern white straw sun hat perched atop her head, and stylish sunglasses shielded her eyes from the summer rays. There was something that seemed off about her, but Tenchi could not place his feelings.

"No ma'am," he finally said, a little bit of sorrow still weighing down his words. "Grandfather passed away back in the spring. I'm the kannushi of Masaki Shrine now."

After mulling over his words for a moment, she finally spoke. "I see. May I visit his grave?"

"Yes ma'am," Tenchi answered, leaning his broom next to the steps leading to the shrine office. The walk up the ancient stone steps laid into the mountain side was spent in solitude, and after a few moments they arrived at the family graves. "This way," Tenchi said, gesturing to the grave with offerings placed in front of it. Some recent visitors had left a small bottle of expensive sake on the stone slab before the cenotaph.

"The old man always had a good taste in sake," she said with a small laugh.

Tenchi watched her for a moment. He could of sworn he saw her shimmer as the breeze picked up a little before she placed a steadying hand on her sun hat to keep it from taking flight. "Grandfather did," Tenchi said as he noticed the brand name on the slightly faded bottle label. The two stood silently before the grave for a few moments.

"Thank you for your kindness," the woman spoke after she had made her peace. Tenchi nodded as she turned to leave.

"Miss," he called out after she had walked a few steps, "you left something."

Turning on heal, she gave him a befuddled look from behind her sunglasses as Tenchi held his hand towards her proffering a smallish piece of paper. She took the scrap of folded, age yellowed paper from him and carefully opened it.

あいしてる was written on it in slightly faded black ink.

"You left that a long time ago," Tenchi said. His heart was in his throat and his hands were shaking. How he knew she was the the author of the note, he did not know. Call it instinct or intuition or the powers that be of the universe sending him divine inspiration, he just knew.

The woman smiled as tears began to streak her face from under her sunglasses. It had been many years since she had last seen that scrap of paper, but there was no denying it was in her hand. "That I did," Ryoko spoke as she took off the glasses revealing her amber, feline eyes. A moment later she had taken off the sun hat and the holographic emitter concealed in it clicked off, dissolving the mask she had worn, returning her features to their normal state and her still braided hair to its natural cyan blue-green.

The two stood in silence for a moment before the wellspring of emotion broke between them. All at once the years of what may have been and what was not dissolved. But beneath those years of separation, a link remained. Memories cherished by them both rushed to the forefront of their consciousness, as vivid now as when they were first forged. Tenchi had long thought that this day would never come, that his time on this earth would be spent in solitude as penance for lost opportunities and the foolishness of his youth.

"I've missed you so much," Ryoko sobbed onto his shoulder as they embraced. Years had past, but her love for him was undiminished.

"I know," Tenchi said stroking the back of her head, "I've missed you more than I can put into words." After so long this felt surreal, almost like a dreamscape come to life. He had to blink a time or two just to reassure himself he was not in fact dreaming. "Is this real?" Tenchi added, not wanting to know the answer if it was not.

"It is," Ryoko spoke, pulling back from their embrace to take a look at him. Time had changed him from the teen she had left to the man she embraced now, but he was still Tenchi. His hair was longer, much like his grandfather wore, his face was beginning to show the first lines of adulthood, his shoulders were broader, and a few specks of silver streaked his obsidian hair, but he was still Tenchi. His eyes were undimmed by time and his voice still had that air of compassion she so adored about him.

"The magpies took pity on me and I've crossed the Amanogawa on their wings to see you," she said in a soft voice.

"Not for just one day," Tenchi asked remembering the legend, before weakly adding "I hope," in benediction.

"No," she said with a smile. "I'm here to stay and no damned Sky King will keep me away."

Tenchi gave her a squeeze as they turned to walk down the shrine steps. "Father will be elated," he said to Ryoko.

Ryoko sighed. "Do you think the carnival is returning?" she asked Tenchi, remembering bygone days. Ghosts of Ayeka, Sasami, Washu, Kiyone, and Mihoshi all played across her mind.

"Only time will tell," he said, seemingly seeing the same ghosts that she did.

Ryoko nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. Tenchi had grown since she had left fifteen summers earlier, and was full head taller than her now. They walked in silence for a while, drinking in each other. "I meant what I wrote on the note when I left," she finally spoke.

"And I meant what it said when I returned it to you," he added. Tenchi had carried that scrap of paper with him almost everyday since she had left to remind himself of how foolish he had been to squander such a gift.

Ryoko felt her heart leap at his words. She tried to say something in return, but all she could offer was tears of joy.

"You owe me a trip," Tenchi whispered into her ear, remembering fully the night they had spent on the roof top. _It was no dream_, he thought with clarity.

"I know," Ryoko said. "And I intend to keep that promise."

"Good," Tenchi said as they enjoyed each others company the rest of the way home. As they walked he reflected on his father's words about the day of his grandfathers funeral. In the end, _Tomobiki_ had turned out to be a good day after all.


End file.
